


Olive Branches

by canniballistics



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: Tired of wrangling her new crewmates into cooperating and sick of expecting a mutiny at any time, Lovelace decides not to follow up when she hears a couple of them planning. Are they actually plotting against her, though? Or is it something else entirely? Plus, bad puns, a makeshift celebration, holy hell, and an offense to life, the universe, and everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DigitalMeowMix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalMeowMix/gifts).



> SO I WILL BE 100% HONEST, I was ridiculously excited to write this for you??? Wolf 359 needs to have a billion fans! However, I should note that this is my first attempt at writing _any_ Wolf 359, so I hope it sounds okay. 
> 
> This takes place sometime between episode 22 and 27, before Kepler and his crew were so much as a twinkle in all of our collective eyes.
> 
> Happy Holidays! I hope they are peaceful and wonderful!

"Come _ooon_!"

He was wheedling, but that wasn't any different from normal. In fact, it was actually becoming something of a comfort. A bit of normalcy in the middle of what was absolutely a neverending nightmare cycle of catastrophe and fixing and catastrophe and fixing. As obnoxious as it _could_ be, from time to time, she actually somewhat enjoyed it.

"Can't she hear us right now? I don't know if you've thought this plan all the way through."

She _could_ hear them. They didn't know it, but she could. 

"She _can't_. It'll be fine! Now are you in, or out?"

A sigh. She should have figured. She should have known something like this would happen, _knew_ something like this would happen; and she knew she should stay, to figure out what they were planning, how they were going to undermine her. But for some reason, today, she couldn't. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to find out. She'd had enough of treachery and betrayal and anticipating the worst; today, she would give it a rest.

Lovelace pushed away from the wall, moving herself along the corridors back up to the bridge. She'd noticed Eiffel and Minkowski acting shifty when they thought she wasn't looking; Eiffel had grabbed Minkowski, and Lovelace tailed them as they snuck off to Selberg — _Hilbert's_ old lab, the one that Eiffel had let slip Rhea had no eyes on. Whatever went on in there, she was blind to it. It made a pretty decent war room to plan in, since one of their co-conspirators was incapable of lying to her commanding officer.

...Hera. Her name was _Hera_ now. Not Rhea. Her name was Hera, and she was...something. A personality all her own. In all honesty, she liked Hera a lot better than Rhea. Hera could actually _respond_ to jokes.

"Hera."

"Yes, Captain?" 

Lovelace didn't want to wonder just how eager Hera would be to help Eiffel and Minkowski with their mutiny. Best to keep both of their minds off such things, at least for a little while. "What's the saltiest fish in the sea?"

It took a minute for Hera to respond. "Uh... What?"

"It's a joke. A pun, actually." Lovelace didn't look up as she pulled out navigational charts, comparing them with notes on the shuttle's repair progress and projections. "What," she repeated, "is the saltiest fish in the sea?"

"I..." Hera paused. "I know the _correct_ answer, but if it's a pun, I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me." Was that resignation in her voice? Hatred? Lovelace didn't _want_ to think so, but there was a good chance of it. "What _is_ the saltiest fish in the sea?"

"Tuna."

There was silence on the bridge. At this point, Lovelace was very pointedly _not_ looking up, partially because she almost expected to see a quizzical face staring back at her like she was insane, but mostly because if she did, she might start laughing. It was a stupid pun. A _really_ stupid pun. But it was _so_ bad it was good, and one of her favorites.

Finally, finally, Hera responded. " _Excuse me?_ How is _tuna_ the saltiest fish in the sea? That's a terrible joke, tuna aren't even _comparable_ to—"

"It's a chemistry joke, Hera. Remember, joke? Not literal." Lovelace cleared away the navigational charts, instead pulling up the list of repairs she still needed done. This one was a little less depressing. A little. " _Na_ is the symbol for sodium on the periodic table of elements, right? It's 2Na. Tuna."

Hera didn't say anything, and after a few minutes it began to feel like an eternity. Lovelace stood there, listening to the ambient noises of the station, the quiet hissing of air being filtered in and out of the room, the low groans as the hull creaked. Oh god. She hadn't fried Hera's personality matrix with a bad pun, had she? "Hera?"

"That is _the worst_ pun I've ever heard. And that's _including_ the ones Officer Eiffel has told me."

Finally, Lovelace laughed. "Wow. That bad, huh? I'm honored, Eiffel _does_ seem like a fount of useless phrases."

" _Pft_." If Hera had a physical body, Lovelace was positive she'd be shaking her head. "Just make sure he never hears that one. I'm pretty sure he stores all the really bad jokes to use on Commander Minkowski when she least expects it."

Almost as if it were divine providence, the doors to the bridge _whooshed_ open, and Eiffel and Minkowski walked in. Both their eyes narrowed once they noticed Lovelace, though at least Eiffel's look was less suspicious.

"Did I just hear something about bad jokes? Did I miss somethin' good?" He strode in past Minkowski and Lovelace, overly casual and way too obvious with it as he relaxed into a nearby chair. "C'mon, don't be stingy. Share with the class, ladies!"

"No. _Please_ be stingy," Minkowski groaned. She looked exhausted. So did Eiffel. Lovelace couldn't help feeling a little guilty for working them both so hard. Then, she remembered hearing them plotting. The guilt evaporated a shade. Minkowski brushed her hair out of her face, attempting to tie it back into a tight ponytail. "If I ever hear another bad joke, it'll be _way_ too soon."

"Are you sure?" Lovelace couldn't help it, smirking just a little at her. It was an olive branch, a tiny one. A shred of camaraderie, despite knowing about their plot. She understood, after all. If she were in their position, she would probably do the same. "I'm told this one is worse than _all_ of his previous works."

"Now you've _gotta_ tell me," Eiffel insisted. "Captain, bad jokes only make me stronger, and if it's as bad as you say then we _gotta_ get my power level to over 9000."

Lovelace frowned. It could only be another of his ridiculous pop culture references, but… what did that even _mean?_ She looked at Minkowski, who only shrugged, shook her head. "Hera?"

"Nnnope."

"One of these days, Eiffel, one of your references is going to make sense to _one_ of us." Lovelace rolled her eyes at him, a short grin. "One of these days."

"Knowing the two of you?" He yawned, stretching as he did. "Probably not _ever_ gonna happen. Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop trying, though. C'mon, did neither of you watch _any_ Dragonball Z when you were kids? No, wait, don't tell me. You were both too busy with your Terminator training to watch cartoons. Figures."

Lovelace couldn't help a small chuckle. "I can neither confirm nor deny those charges." And in the way most contagious things went, she raised a hand to stifle her own yawn. "We worked pretty hard today. Think it might be time to call it a night, huh?" 

"Really? You're giving us the night off?" Eiffel pulled out a watch, whistling low. "Captain, it's only 1900 hours. Are you feeling all right? There's still a few more things to do—"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, I was _trying_ to be generous, but if you want a few more tasks, that can always be arranged." 

Minkowski shot him a glare, and almost immediately, Eiffel jumped back out of his chair. "Nope! Never mind, I'm good, thanks! Night, Captain!"

It didn't escape her that both he and Minkowski left together after a polite, "Good night, Captain Lovelace," from Minkowski. She allowed herself a small smile at seeing how close they were, unable to help wondering if they'd have ever become friends if they weren't on this mission. Knowing Eiffel, probably not. So, one good thing had come from this hellscape they were all trapped in.

That was a comfort to think about, at least.

Lovelace took a deep breath, running a few more scans on the shuttle before shaking her head. She couldn't concentrate. Hera, Minkowski, and Eiffel reminded her too much of her own crew, of Fourier, Hui, Lambert, and Fisher. A slightly smaller crew this time, obviously, but the camaraderie was there, the genuine caring for each other. Of course, there was also the fact that Selberg was still alive, was going by Hilbert now, but as long as they kept him away from her, she would suffer his continued existence. 

This time when she called Hera's name, it was quiet, almost none of the joviality from before. "Hera?"

"Yes, Captain?"

Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to ask this question. It would bother her, though, if she didn't. If she didn't at least find out. "Obviously, Cutter didn't tell Eiffel and Minkowski about my crew and I before sending them on this mission." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the answer. "Did they tell _you_?" A pause. "I mean, did they keep information about us? Is there anything in your databanks about us?"

"One moment, please." Hera was silent then, and Lovelace took the opportunity to marvel at how efficient she was, even with all the things Eiffel told her had happened. She was such a contrast to Rhea and the beeps she could only give in response. And when she finally answered, it didn't surprise Lovelace at all. "I'm sorry, Captain Lovelace. There's nothing about you, your crew, or even another Hephaestus station in my memory."

Lovelace sighed. It didn't surprise her, but that didn't mean it wasn't still a bit of a disappointment. Knowing what she did of Command, she wouldn't have been surprised if they'd swept all traces of their existences from the face of the Earth, too. "I didn't think so. Thank you, Hera."

"That's not to say they don't have records somewhere, Captain!" 

Lovelace narrowed her eyes, looking up. "Hera?"

She sounded a little cowed, almost embarrassed at the exclamation. "That is, I mean— I'm sure they probably have all the files on you still, somewhere, and just didn't give me access. They had to know what they'd need to improve...upon..." There was an awkward pause. "Sorry, Captain Lovelace. I didn't mean to say it like that."

There was a dark little laugh. "It's all right, Hera. I get it. And you know what, you're probably right." Just one more thing to take back when she finally got back to Canaveral. 

"Captain?" That surprised her, and Lovelace cocked her head. "Can I... Why do you ask?"

Ah. She hummed. "I don't remember where I heard it, exactly." Lovelace busied herself with clearing her workspace, everything back in its proper place. "There's a belief out there that when someone dies, it's not really the end. They're still alive, as long as someone remembers them." A deep breath. God, she missed them. Even Lambert, that stick in the mud. "I still remember them. If Command wants to erase us, they're going to have to go through me first." Her fist closed, knuckles pressing into the console in front of her. "And when I get back, I'm taking whatever they have on us. As far as I'm concerned, they don't deserve to even say their names."

Hera didn't say anything while Lovelace finished tidying up. It was all right. She didn't really expect her to, especially not if Hera believed she'd really leave her behind when they left. She made her way down the winding corridors to the quarters she temporarily called her own — the irony that they were Hilbert's didn't escape her. As she changed out of her uniform, started to wind down for the night, Hera finally spoke up again.

"You're a very brave woman, Captain Lovelace. I'm sorry they did this to you."

Lovelace closed her eyes. She wasn't brave. She was angry. She was angry, and she was going to rain holy _hell_ on Cutter and everyone else who'd decided her crew was expendable. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain. Good night."

"Good night, Hera."

She spent the evening reviewing Eiffel and Minkowski's logs, and when she could no longer stand reading about the second Hephaestus mission, turned off the lights and went to sleep.

* * *

Lovelace woke with her former crew's voices echoing in the back of her head, Lambert scolding Fisher and Fourier as they laughed; it was a strange sensation, at once unsettling and yet comforting. She hadn't thought about _them_ very often since boarding the new Hephaestus. Sure, she'd thought _about_ them, about how what had been done to them was unforgivable and wrong, but not the people themselves. It was...nice to dream about the people, rather than reliving the nightmare of losing everyone one by one.

When she got to the bridge, she was surprised to find it empty. She'd given up on Eiffel waking before 1000 hours, but Minkowski was always either awake before her, or just on her heels to it. To find her not in the bridge, even after Lovelace had allowed herself an extra fifteen minutes to fully wake, came as a bit of a shock.

"Morning, Hera."

"Good morning, Captain. Or, whatever passes for morning here. You know how Wolf 359 never.. _sets_ , or anything."

Lovelace laughed. "Yeah, I'm familiar. Thanks for maintaining such a steady clock for us to judge by, by the way."

"Oh, it's nothing," Hera deflected, but there was a note of pride in her voice. "Thank _you_ for noticing! You humans don't seem to understand just how important it is to maintain a normal routine every day. Flesh bodies are so unreliable."

A pause. "Uh _huh_. I'm not sure I want to know," Lovelace grinned.

"That's probably for the best."

Lovelace shook her head, but couldn't wipe the smile from her face. God, she'd missed this. "Hey, speaking of routine, can you tell me where Lieutenant Minkowski is? She's normally here before even me, it's almost weird not to see her."

"One second, please." 

Lovelace stretched as she waited. How convenient would it be to be a near omni-prescient AI? Hera could scan the entire station within seconds. Maybe she was onto something about flesh bodies being inconvenient. 

"Ugh!"

Lovelace frowned. That was new. "Hera? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hera grumbled. "She and Eiffel keep going into _that_ room. The one I can't see. He told you about it. If you're looking for Commander Minkowski, you'll find her there." Lovelace could almost imagine her crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she continued, "I _hate_ it when I can't see what's going on in my own station!"

That sobered Lovelace's mood a little. She'd nearly forgotten about the duo plotting yesterday. She took a deep breath, pushing away from the console she'd been holding onto. "Thanks, Hera. How about this: I'll go find out what they're doing, since you helped me find them. We'll figure out what they're doing."

"Are you sure, Captain? It might just be nothing."

"Oh, I'm sure." They'd wanted to make sure they were secretive enough yesterday. Time to figure out what their plan was, and put a stop to it.

The first sign that something was up was the marker floating in the middle of the hallway toward Hilbert's old lab. Lovelace stared at it for a few seconds before plucking it out of midair. What the _hell_? She paused on the threshold, trying to listen around the corner to see if she could hear anything; when all she got was hushed whispers, she closed her eyes. Sighed. So it would come to this, huh? She took a deep breath and swung around the corner—

—and just narrowly avoided crashing directly into Eiffel.

"Whoa! Captain Lovelace, careful! Are you okay?"

"I, uh— Yeah. Yes. I'm fine," she stammered. She hadn't expected to _literally_ run into one of them. And now that she was actually in the room with them, it...didn't look like some kind of dastardly mutiny plan at all. In fact, it looked like... "What are you two _doing_?" She asked, nearly as confused as she'd been on seeing the Hephaestus again.

"Did we not tell you?" Eiffel looked over his shoulder at Minkowski, who had her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. "Sorry, Captain, it was kind of rushed— C'mon in!" And as he ushered her into the room, he stuck his head back into the hallway, calling out, "Sorry, Hera! Borrowing the Captain for a little while!"

There was an unintelligible protest before the door slid shut behind them, and as Eiffel explained what they were doing, Lovelace couldn't help but laugh. She'd been stressing over _this_? She shook her head, unsure whether she'd underestimated this crew, or if she'd _over_ estimated them. But—

"All right, I'm in," she said. "Where do I start?"

Eiffel grinned, handing her a handful of materials. "Get to work, Captain."

* * *

A few hours passed before any of them left the lab after that. Hilbert joined them once or twice to give updates on the project he'd been working on for them, giving her a wide berth as he reported to Eiffel. Lovelace noted silently that, interestingly enough, even though both of them technically outranked him, they were deferring to him for this. No doubt it was his plan, the thing he'd been trying to persuade Minkowski about yesterday. The fact he was awake so early was impressive enough by itself; that Minkowski and Hilbert were both following his directions was just ridiculous. It was endearing, though, and Lovelace found herself taking to the work. 

When they were finally ready, they gathered together to concoct the final stage of the plan, and once the details were ironed out, they nodded conspiratorially, and readied to fulfill their parts.

Minkowski was first out of the room. "Hera, will you help me out? I want to see if we can patch you into that room, so that you don't have any blind spots anymore."

" _Finally_ ," Hera exclaimed. "We might be able to go in through the power conduits in engineering..."

Her voice trailed off, following Minkowski as she moved towards the engineering section. As soon as they were out of sight, Eiffel and Lovelace shot into the hall, making their way towards the comms room as quickly as they could. There was no doubt Hera could still see them, but it helped to have her attention split elsewhere. The two of them scrambled to and fro across the comms room, sticking signs and cut-out shapes all over the walls and non-vital equipment. Wherever they could, and by the time Minkowski returned, Hilbert had joined them with his contribution. He was also, quite noticeably, the only one who didn't chime in when they shouted.

"Uh, guys?" Hera sounded troubled as she spoke. "What did you _do_?"

Eiffel was the loudest as he and Minkowski, and to a lesser, quieter extent, Lovelace, all shouted out, "Happy birthday, Hera!"

"My... But I don't _have_ a birthday. Comes with being artificial, y'know?"

"Pshaw." Eiffel grinned. "You're just as much a member of the crew as any of us, and your program was booted up for the first time _sometime_ , right? Since none of us know, and we haven't celebrated it yet, we've got at least _some_ chance of it being today!"

"So you... You did this all for _me_?" The room was covered in stars, and flowers, and makeshift banners, and hastily scribbled (and possibly badly translated) binary code, all with some permutation of _happy birthday_ and _you're the best_ and other ridiculous sentiments written across them. It was completely absurd, but... "You _guys_!" Hera seemed to love it. So, it was worth it.

Minkowski elbowed Eiffel as Hera exclaimed about the decorations, and Lovelace was just barely able to make out a quiet, "This was a good plan," as she did. It seemed to spur Eiffel into motion, who jumped. 

"Wait!" He turned to Hilbert, who'd been loitering at the edge of the room — there was a tray in his hands, with four oddly-shaped lumps on it. If Lovelace squinted, they almost looked like… "I almost forgot the piece de resistance!" Eiffel took the tray, proudly displaying the lumps. "Now, obviously we don't have any _real_ ingredients, and if we did I doubt Dr. Caligari here would be the guy to turn to. But I got him to whip up some—"

"The closest approximation," Hilbert interrupted, shifting uncomfortably.

"Fine, the _closest he could get_ , to cupcakes!" Eiffel eyed the things on the tray, frowning. "Wow, Doc, you really...didn't put in any effort into these at all, did you?"

"Is rather difficult to synthesize the taste and texture of doughy substances when you have neither flour nor baking soda." Hilbert frowned, muttering, "I did the best I could with what I have, in a _very short_ time frame."

Eiffel eyed him for a moment. "Sure you did. _Anyway_ , I figured that, since you don't have a mouth, Hera, you'd get to celebrate by watching _us_ eat these and try not to die horribly! And I know what you're thinking," he said, reaching out to grab Hilbert's arm and keep him from floating away. "This guy's tried to kill all of us at least once; how do we know he didn't poison these? Fair question. If you'll notice, there are four; Hilbert is going to eat one first, to prove they're safe!"

There was silence for a moment. Then, "You know what? I'm okay with this." And if Lovelace didn't know any better, she could definitely believe that Hera was grinning as she said it.

Hilbert shot Eiffel a dark look before reaching for one of the lumps; before his fingers could close around it, however, Eiffel snatched it out of his grasp and instead tossed it to Minkowski. There was a distinct _harrumph_ as Hilbert grabbed a different one, staring at it sullenly. Eiffel offered the tray to Lovelace, who took one for herself, and then he let it float away as he claimed the last. 

"You don't make cake with baking soda, by the way." Eiffel was smug as he said it. "It's baking _powder_. Now eat up, Doc."

"I want the both of you to remember that this was Eiffel's idea," Hilbert groused, before taking a bite of his "cupcake". His jaw worked up and down for a minute, a conspicuously _chewy_ noise heard throughout the room, before he swallowed it, visibly straining to do so. And then he glared. "Your turns."

The "cupcake" was grotesque: it had about the same consistency as taffy mixed with oat, with a distinctly seaweed taste; within minutes all four of them were gagging and shoving the creation as far away as possible. "Ugh, that is just— That's just offensive," Minkowski moaned.

"I know, right?" Eiffel agreed, scraping at his tongue. "I can't get it to go away!"

Lovelace couldn't stop the shudder sliding up and down her spine; the taste was just _so_ pervasive, and so disgusting. "That," she gagged, "was an offense to life, the universe, and everything in it."

"I dunno, I thought it was pretty great!"

There was an aggrieved chorus of " _Hera!_ " from the humans. Once they got their tastebuds under control, Hilbert gathered the remains of the "cupcakes" and the tray, muttering something about _disposing of these abominations_ ; not long after, Eiffel began singing "Happy Birthday", and even managed to get Minkowski to join in. 

Lovelace grinned as she watched them, and was struck with a sudden flash of her own crew, celebrating for Dr. Hui. It made her homesick, a little bit. They were great people, and she knew she would always regret that she couldn't protect them. More and more, however, she was finding that a fondness (however begrudging) was starting to form for this new crew. Maybe in time they would welcome her into their fold; who knew, maybe in letting her in on Hera's birthday, they already were. Watching them now, though, they weren't so different from her old one, and it was a comfort she was beginning to want to protect.


End file.
